


The Boy Who Would Be King

by TristanRossKrushnic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TristanRossKrushnic/pseuds/TristanRossKrushnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired on a weird dream I had.<br/>Placed near the end of season 9. Castiel got his wings back, method will not be cleared.<br/>WIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Would Be King

**Author's Note:**

> Ship included but not main subject: Destiel  
> You may interpret this as AU, where Metatron doesn't have control over the story, because I don't like the idea of Metatron writing like Chuck did once. It interferes with my plot line. Sorry.  
> Give me your honest opinion, but make it constructive! I would really appreciate your reviews :)

 Dean had been drinking too much again. He woke up, his mouth was bitter and pasty. He rubbed his hand over his face and blinked a few times until he was able to focus his view. He sat up when he noticed that he'd been sleeping on the floor, and stretched his back and arms, trying to work out the stiffness of his muscles. A few empty bottles were lying around him. He tapped his pockets, looking for his cellphone and, when he found it, he stared blankly at the time. The clock was marking 15 hs o'clock. He felt baffled, he was used to rise up early. He got up, stumbling, opened the door of his room an headed to Sam's. He had to hold onto the wall to walk, his legs felt heavy and reclutant to move. Not very surprised, Dean noticed Sam's bedroom was empty.

"Sam?" He yelled. No one answered.  
  
The rain was falling loudly, thunders cracking like the Colt, so he yelled again, louder. 

"Sam where are you?". Still no answer.

 He walked to the library, _where else could Sam be?_. His head was pounding, unrelenting misery of a headache. His knees were weak and every light on the hallway felt like glass cutting through his eyes, all the way to his brain. He was, clearly, hungover. Apparently, he had drank more than usual. He chuckled at himself, he'd thought his alcohol tolerance had no limits. He stopped, wide-eyed, when he noticed the library was empty. Automatically, like he was used to, he forgot about his ailment and started to search frantically for his brother. Phone in hand, calling him, while he opened every door of every room in the bunker. Sam was not there and he wasn't picking up his phone either. He sighed, try to calm himself down. Maybe he was being just paranoid. Maybe he was out to do some groceries. Or with Castiel.  
 _That's right! Cas!_. Dean closed his eyes and prayed for Castiel. He didn't even had to finish his sentence, the angel appeared in front of him.  
 His hair was messy and the trenchcoat was dirty. There was dust all over him and a few drops of blood mixing. He was, for some reason, out of breath. As if he had run to the bunker instead of just "zapping" in. His eyes were darting about in concern and his jaw was set. He tried to speak but no words came out.

  
"Cas, you okay?" Asked Dean worried, and Cas felt like dying as he heard his voice.  
  
Castiel wasn't physically hurt, at least not at first sight, the blood drops didn't seem to have a clear source. But he seemed emotionally hurt. And Dean's heart sunk in. He felt cold over his chest, an angst was crawling inside of him. He knew something was wrong.

"They got him, Dean. They got Sam." And Dean felt the angst choking his heart. "I'm so sorry, Dean, I tried. I swear I tried. But were outgunned and... he gave his life for me. Why would he do that? He told me to save myself but I couldn't, so he just drew a banishing sigil with his own blood and sent me away. I went back but he's no there anymore. I'm sorry."  
  
"Okay, okay, calm down" Said Dean, but he wasn't calmed himself. His hands were shaking as he grabbed the angel by the trenchcoat and dragged him to the nearest chair. "Tell me everything that happened. Where were you? When did this happen?".  
  
Castiel felt the guilt eat every inch of his insides. Unconsciouslly, he reached for Dean's hand, rubbing the back with his fingertips. Then, he moved his fingers and crossed them with Dean's. He had never held his hand this hard before.

* * *

It all had started just an hour before Dean woke up. Both Sam and Cas were staring at him pitifully, as he slept on the floor.

"It's the mark..." And the rest of the words seemed to wash out of his mind. He couldn't watch his brother like this anymore. It was killing him slowly.  
  
"Should we put him to bed?" Sugested Cas.  
  
"No. He has never slept so long in this last few days, let him rest."  
  
 Sam turned around and walk slowly through the hallway, with hesitating movements, forcing determination. Cas stared at Dean for a few more seconds, resisting the urge of picking him up in his arms and tuck him in bed. With a sigh, he turned around and walk fast to catch Sam. He could've easily appeared at his side instead of walking, but he forgot that he had his wings back. He'd spent a long time by now walking and driving to places.  
  
"Let's do it ourselves". Said Sam.  
  
"What?" Asked Castiel, who wasn't really paying attention, he was still swimming in memories of Dean.  
  
"Let's go, just you and me." Said Sam, turning around as he reached the foot of the main staircaise of the bunker. "Even if we wait until Dean wakes up, he'll be hungover as hell. I'm not trying to be mean here, but he won't be usefull. In fact, he might hold us back." Sam didn't mean any of those words. He was actually taking advantage of the situation. He was authentically worried about Dean, and the only way he could get Dean to stop and care about himself was, ironically, while being unconscious. " You have your wings back, Cas. We're both strong enough to take down one angel. And if things get complicated... Well, you bring us back here."  
  
"What if Dean wakes up and he's on his own."  
  
"Then let's leave him a note. I don't know. In the way he is right now I don't think he's waking up any time soon anyway."  
  
 Castiel hesitated. They had a clue where Gadreel was, presumably alone. Even if it was one by one, they had to get rid of Metatron's Army. He knew Sam was right. They could do it, together. And Dean could finally get some rest without feeling the weight of the world in his shoulders. So he agreed simply by nodding. Sam ran to get his angel blade and Castiel waited for him, trying to look emotionless, hiding the fact that he was afraid for Dean's health. Sam came back and Castiel placed his hand gently on Sam's shoulder. They disappeared.  


 It was a big, empty warehouse. The paint was peeling of it's walls, where a few graffitis made by youths were drawn. They were standing in a huge parking lot, there was a hint of painted lines on the asphalt, but it was almost gone. The sky was white, the sun was streaming in warm beams of light beneath the clouds. Though the wind was blowing hard, the day wasn't as cold as it seemed. Sam's hair was crisscrossing his face, shining in gold tones, and the rush of the wind against his neck was giving him goosebumps. The way Castiel's hair flowed in every direction was mesmerizing. A few dark hairs were dancing on his forehead, contrasting his bright blue eyes, that looked almost transparent with the white light of the day. But the show wouldn't last much. There were black clouds in the horizon, matching the ferocity of the upcoming storm.  
  
"Should we just walk in?" Asked Sam, rubbing his palms, trying to warm himself up, and then returning them to his pockets. He burried his head between his shoulders, trying to avoid the contact of the wind with his skin. His eyes were narrowed by the almost blinding shiny day.  
  
"I suppose so. It's baffling, coming from you, to act without a plan or a back-up plan." Said Castiel, and there was a tone of concern in his voice. Sam was acting impulsively. Sam was acting like Dean.  
  
"I know, I just want to get all this over with. I..." He hesistated, he wasn't sure about finishing his sentence or not." I want my brother back... you know?" Finished, grimly.  
  
Castiel nodded. He wanted the old Dean too. He missed him. No one could imagine how much he missed him. And even if it wasn't Abaddon, getting rid of Metatron was a big step.  
Once again, forgetting about his wings, they both walked to the derelict building. As they got in, they left a path of foot prints in the thick layer of dust. There were old cardboard boxes all over the place and spider webs hanging from the ceiling. The place wasn't getting any warmer. Almost every window lacked of glass, their rotting wooden frames exposed naked. There were remnants of glass shattered on the floor boards and between old broken chairs. Though the ground floor had many windows, it was so big that as they walked deeper inside, the place was getting darker.

"First floor, there's someone there." Said Castiel. "I feel it."  
  
"Gadreel?" Asked Sam.  
  
"No I... It doesn't seem like Gadreel."  
  
"Let's go check." Sam said instantly. He really wanted to finish it all as fast as they could. He practically ignored the fact that Castiel had said it wasn't Gadreel.  
  
 They went up the stairs. They were made of wood, and it would creak with every step. The bannister felt disgustingly soft, it was covered in mold. As they got to the first floor, there was a long draughty corridor. It was even darker than the center of the ground floor. The corridor ended in a curve that lead to a big room with picture windows in every wall. It was almost as bright as the parking lot. In the middle of it, there was a girl standing. She turned around, like sensing the boy's presence, and there was evil in her eyes. Castiel took a step foward as he raised his left arm over Sam's chest, keeping him back.  
  
"It's a demon" Cas said.  
  
"She said you'd come." Said the demon girl at Cas. She was completely ignoring Sam's prescence. "Weird how your boy-toy isn't here. But anyway, we dont need him." Her accent reminded them of Crowley.  
  
Castiel raised his right arm, his palm extended, pointing menacingly at the girl. The girl didn't flinch at all.  
  
"Oh, Cassie, Cassie... You can kill me, right. But can you kill the whole army?" Her eyes turned black as she draw an evil grin on her face.  
  
The black clouds were closer now, everything was a little darker. Far away, through the windows, they noticed every street lamp flickering.  
  
"Army?" Asked Sam. He tried not to look scared, but his voice was shaking and slightly loud.  
  
"Oh, hi Sam." Said the girl. "I almost forgot about you, how dumb. We're all here for you" Demons started to appear behind her. Men. Women. And the most disturbing demons, children.  
  
"We're going" said Cas, but Sam dodged his hand.  
  
"What do you mean 'for me'?"  
  
"It doesn't matter Sam, let's go." Said Castiel with a harsh voice, leaving no room for answers. He wasn't just serious, he also was angry. Angry at Sam's reckless attitude. Angry at the way Sam would brazenly break the promise of going back to the bunker if things got dangerous. He attempted one more time to hold Sam and get out, but as he tried to, the demon girl threw Sam across the room, as far away from Cas as possible.  
  
"We can let your angel friend live, Sam. He's just gotta take the right decision." Said the girl, but it was too late. Cas was already fighting the demons.  
  
Sam got up and tried to help. Why were all the demons attacking Cas? Why were they letting Sam live? What were they planing?. Between blades and flashing lights, Castiel accidentally cut Sam's arm at the height of his shoulder.  
Sam was, at some point, scared of Castiel. He knew it was the right thing to get rid of the demons, but Cas was stabbing innocent possessed little children with no remorse. 

"They want me, Cas! Just go! Go get Dean!" Screamed Sam. He wasn't fighting anymore, he felt useless. But it was the fear what immobilized him. He felt like a kid again.  
  
"No, Sam. We're getting out of here" Responded Cas between grunts and groans.  
  
But Sam couldn't see a way out. Cas was barely staying alive. Too many demons for just one angel. So he dipped his hand in his own blood and drew an Angel Banishing Sigil on the floor. One or two splinters got stuck in his fingers.  
  
"I'm sorry Cas, this is for your own good. Get Dean!" He said, and pressed his hand against the sigil drawn in the wooden floor board. With a bright white light, Cas was gone.

"No!" Screamed Cas, but it was in vane. He was all the way across the world. Luckily, he had his wings now. It took him time, but he went back to the warehouse.  
He was standing in the same room again and everything was incredibly quiet. All he could hear was his own rapid breathing and the rain that had started to fall in the city. The thick drops were entering the building pushed by the wind through the broken windows. He stared, wide eyes open, as he gave a small unaudible gasp. It was empty. The room was empty. Completely empty. All that remained was the bloody sigil on the floor. He unconsciouslly tightened his hand around his angel blade, which was covered in blood. He felt unable to move, but he needed to find Sam. So he flew, and he searched in every corner of the world, every city of every country in every continent. Sam was nowhere to be found. So he went back one more time to the warehouse and he searched it again, but this time just running, floor by floor. The fear and worry was almost cutting through his grace, the hopelessness filled him. He never felt so horribly human. Even if he didn't want to, he had to resign. In that moment, he heard Dean's prayer. His voice, at first, sounded like a boat coming to save him from his shipwreck. So he went to the bunker as fast as he could.

 

* * *

 

"You should've told me, Cas! Why didn't you wake me up?"  
  
"I already told you, Dean. I'm sorry. There are some angels who can help me find Sam but..." He felt the next words burning his heart as they came out of his mouth "...unfortunately, I can't promise anything."  
  
"I know, I know... Call them. We need to find him. What would they want with him? Those sons of bitches."  
  
"I don't know, but we'll find out. That, I can promise."

 

 


End file.
